Love Hina: Promise Breaker
by Squire of Gothos
Summary: Naru does the unthinkable, shattering Keitaro's soul. This is his journey as he picks up the pieces.
1. Shattered Dreams

Author's Notes: I swear, I did not intend to start another story with such an important one (to me, anyway) still active, but the shear implausibility of this scenario drew me like a moth to a flame. It all began with a short one-shot story by an author on this site called 'protorb.' His only requirement for someone rewriting the story was that his original story be mentioned, and so I gladly give him credit here. I've kept the story name the same for continuity purposes. I intended for this to be a one-shot as well, but the story just cut itself off way before I intended, so I'm forced to call this a prologue. I'll continue it as time allows...

Just a quick note, I'm following the manga, and this takes place during the chapter following Naru's confession, which means it's been about a month (by Motoko's estimation) since she accepted the ring.

* * *

Promise Breaker

Prologue -- Shattered Dreams

Two figures sat in the semi-dark room, tears running down their faces. They knelt in the traditional Japanese way of sitting, facing each other. One was male, the Manager of Hinata-Sou, the all-girls-dormitory in which the two of them currently resided, and the other was female, one of the tenants of the dormitory. Between the two of them sat the object that bound them together, and yet at the same time separated them as surely as a stone wall.

The object was a simple golden ring. It was unadorned, and was obviously not the most expensive ring one could buy, but it served its purpose. It represented the love one person had for another, and in this case it embodied almost the full balance of the savings account of its giver.

Neither of them could speak, for each knew surely that whatever was said would only be misinterpreted, and yet each was braced for the other's words. These two people were far different from the young man and woman when they had first met. Were those two sitting here, the meeting would have already devolved into blows, and one or both of them would have already fled, not wanting to face the other.

In some ways it might have been better for the old versions of the two to have been there, for one of them would have much more readily forgiven the other, and the other might have forgotten after giving the one a good pounding for something that was not his fault. Such a resolution would be nothing but a salve, though, so perhaps it would not be so good after all. Fate, in her wisdom, had brought about the inevitable at such a time when the two of them would be able to face each other without running or blowing up.

They both shifted slightly, he to swipe the sleeve of his shirt across his damp face, she to brush aside a loose strand of hair. Their eyes met, each guessing that the other had been about to speak, even though that had not been the case. She was the one who broke contact, looking down and closing her eyes in sorrow at the pain in her heart, and on his face. Eventually he too looked down, fresh tears wetting his face, and hers. Neither of them reacted when the door to the room slid aside quietly. Framed in the light from the hallway was the tall graceful form of Motoko Aoyama, female Kendoist, her traditional gi-and-hakama outfit billowing as she moved.

"Naru-sempai, I was wondering if you could..." the question died on her lips as she took in the room and its two inhabitants. The pain and sorrow radiating from the two of them bombarded her aural vision, staggering her, and her hand unconsciously gripped the sheath of her katana. She had seen her friend in similar pain before, and it had almost always had something to do with the young man before her, either some clumsy mistake he had made, or some slip of the tongue.

Two things and two things alone kept her from blindly striking him down. One, over the past months she had come to respect his ceaseless dedication. The boy had been accepted into his dream university, and had confessed his love (ring and all) to the woman he had long wooed. Whatever faults he possessed, he had grown considerably more dependable since the time she had first met him. And two, he was in just as much pain as Naru.

She had seen many things from him – love (for Naru), sorrow (whenever he embarrassed others by being his usual clumsy self, or made some slip of the tongue), his emotions ran the gamut of a normal human being, but she had never seen him in such pain. The young man was always so quick to forgive, even when he was not at fault. Motoko had at first despised the boy for it, seeing it as weakness, but over the years she had come to know better. It was his greatest strength, and was probably what drew Naru to him despite all his other faults. Whatever had happened here was apparently so unforgivable that even he was at a loss, and yet his need to forgive her was still there, and thus he sat, in pain, and unable to cope with it.

She knew at once that it would do no good to ask what was wrong, as neither of them were in any condition to speak. Then she saw the ring between them, and pain gripped her.

"I swear to the both of you, no one will enter," was all she said. She turned, sliding the door shut and seating herself, laying her katana across her lap as she closed her eyes. Time was what the two needed, and she would keep a vigil as long as required.

* * *

Flashback

Keitaro practically skipped up the chipped stone stairs leading to Hinata-Sou, his heart soaring despite the cloudy sky that promised rain. He had just come from Tokyo-U after registering for second-term classes. Despite the fact that he was one term behind Naru, he had somehow managed to convince the resident language professor to allow him to take an advanced placement test to make up for the missed term. He was still deciding what he wanted to study, but he was tentatively leaning towards archeology, which meant the study of languages was important. Fortunately for him, languages were one of his strong points, and he had passed the test by the skin of his teeth. The man had grudgingly signed the waiver passing him to enroll in the advanced class.

_Atleast in this one area, Narusegawa and I will have classes together!_

He entered Hinata-Sou without greeting, knowing there would be no one there besides his girlfriend. Shinobu was on an extended field trip with her class, Koalla Suu had somehow tagged along using a fake ID, and Motoko had taken a few days off of her studies to go out training in the wild as she sometimes did. As for Mitsune, she had gone out in her role of Investigative Reporter, money for her apparently having gotten tight. She would likely not be back for atleast a week, and then it would be nothing but parties until she needed money again.

The first drops of rain began to patter against the window of his darkening room as he dropped the college text-books on his futon, slipping off his shoes and climbing up onto the chair beneath the ragged hole that allowed access between his room and Naru's. His fiancee would not be expecting him home, for he had mentioned that he would be taking the weekend to study with his two friends Shirai and Haitani. He had not truly expected to pass the advanced placement test, and when he had, he immediately purchased the books for the class and changed his plans.

_Fiancee... I can hardly believe it._

It had been like a dream come true when Naru had finally accepted the ring and professed her feelings for him. Their relationship up to this point had been a tumultuous one, but he treasured every moment of it.

_Now that she accepted the ring, and I passed this test, everything is perfect._

Tears of happiness glittered at the corners of his eyes as he pushed up on the piece of plywood covering the hole between their rooms.

"Narusegawa, I passed the test!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "We're in the same language class now! Do you want to study a little this afternoon? Naru-se... gawa..." Her room was dark, and dead silent, though he thought he had heard a quiet gasp just as he had spoken. Liddo-kun, her stuffed plushie doll rolled off the tilted plywood he held above his head, coming to rest on its side, fixing him with a blank gaze. "Huh, she must be gone."

He was about to replace the plywood over the hole when he tilted it just far enough for the small object that had been placed under Liddo-kun to lose traction. It slid to the edge of the plywood, falling with a clunk to the floor in front of his nose.

"Her ring," he murmured, reaching out and picking it up. The plywood slipped from his hands to the floor behind him, but he did not notice. He turned the ring over in his hands, wondering what it could mean.

_Why isn't she wearing it?_

He was about to drop back to his own room when he heard the soft whisper of sheets moving against each other, and then silence.

"N-Narusegawa?" he hesitantly called. _I shouldn't be here, she'll kill me if I catch her half-dressed..._

Despite the mental warnings screaming inside him, something pushed him to climb into the room. He stood up, the ring in his hand, to see Naru tangled up in the sheets of her futon, her silky hair splayed out in all directions. She was in the arms of another young man, and a tear rolled down her cheek as she stared at her fiancee open-mouthed. As the moment stretched out to infinity, something deep inside Keitaro died.

"Per... pervert...!" she jerkily pulled a corner of the sheet over her naked body, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle out of her partner's embrace as Keitaro slowly turned around, his eyes as blank as Liddo-kun's. "...I, no!" she stretched out a hand towards Keitaro's retreating form. "...wait! Please...!" Her hand dropped to the bed as he dropped through the hole. "I can explain," she said softly. Uselessly.

End Flashback

* * *

Naru waited, wondering what his question would be, having resolved not to just run out on him.

_Why? How, maybe?_

She had gone over the circumstances in her head so many times looking for some plausible trail of logic that might exonerate her, atleast in the eyes of the only person who mattered.

_This... this is Keitaro, right? If there's anybody who will forgive me, it's him..._

_Right?_

_Right...?_

She squeezed her eyes shut, clinching her fists tightly.

"Na-Naru?"

Her eyes snapped open, and for a moment it looked like there was a halo of light around Keitaro's head, as she looked at him through the tears blurring her vision.

"I... can't stop loving you, no matter what you do."

Her heart leapt at his words, though she felt a twinge of sadness. The young man smiled wanly.

"I won't ask you why... I don't want you to feel bad. Just... please try to be more discrete if you do this in the future, won't you...?"

It was like a dream come true, and the moment seemed frozen as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. "...s-sure, Keitaro, I promise..." she murmured. _Wait, did he just give me permission to keep doing this?_ Confusion switched to anger. _Hold on, he's assuming I'd do it again?!_

"What did I do wrong?" the soft question punctured the pleasant dream world she had been fabricating, but the confusion and anger stayed with her.

_What did he do wrong?_

The question echoed through her mind, stunning her beyond belief. It was the last thing she expected to hear from him, and yet in retrospect the question was thoroughly Keitaro. For a short moment her defenses were breached, and she spoke the truth of what she was feeling.

"Why... couldn't you have acted more like a man..."

Keitaro slowly looked up. "What?"

Something in his eyes made her shiver, and her defenses came back up. "No! I didn't mean it like that..."

"You didn't mean it like..." His voice was dull as he slowly repeated what she had said, trying to make some sense of the conversation.

"...in a perverted way," she finished, cringing at how that had sounded.

His eyes flashed momentarily. "You're accusing _me_ of being perverted?"

"What? I..."

He waved her off, "No, I apologize, that was... I spoke out of anger."

She fell helplessly silent, wishing she knew what to say. In one pristine moment of clarity, she saw, and accepted, that she didn't deserve the young man sitting across from her, and she could do no more than look down as fresh tears slid down her face.

He closed his eyes against the sight, and with a monumental effort he managed to speak.

"You're right, Narusegawa, I should be more like a man."

"Wh-what?" she mumbled.

"I... forgive you."

"You... what? Of... course, you do." She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. _Is this really happening?_

"I won't ask why you did it. I..."

"I... I swear I won't do it again," the words tumbled out of her automatically. _It's... it's like a dream. I don't deserve this..._ Her pride reasserted itself. "No, wait Keitaro, you don't have to..."

"What are you talking about, Narusegawa?" his shoulders were less slumped now, as if a burden had been lifted. He reached forward, picking up the ring. "You can do whatever you want, it's not like I'm your parent or something..." a ghost of a smile passed over his lips, and her insides froze.

"...but, I want _you,_" she breathed.

He have her an incredulous look, and then shook his head sadly. "I... don't understand you. I wish I did..."

She reached out a trembling hand, taking his. He didn't resist, even when she opened it, and fingered the ring in his palm. There was no point, she was stronger than him.

"That's... not yours, anymore."

"But..."

"Narusegawa... You're the one who took it off, not me...!"

"You... you idiot!" she yelled as she grabbed his collar, her other hand still holding his. "It's... your fault, somehow. It's got to be..." her voice shook, and the sliding door slammed open, Motoko's anxious face was framed by the light from the hallway.

He sighed. "I apologize, Narusegawa, I spoke in anger again. But it was the truth."

Motoko stood in the doorway, brought to a stop by the startling realization that she did not know who to strike. She watched the manager get to his feet and calmly walk away from the girl of his promise. He stumbled slightly when he reached the kendoist, not even noticing she had been there.

"...s-sorry," he mumbled.

"Urashima..." she whispered, unconsciously stepping back, almost pushed away by the intense grief she sensed from him. She looked back to where Naru sat. The ring was gone, and the pieces of broken conversation she had overheard only added to her confusion.

_This can't be... It's always Urashima who makes the mistakes, not her! But what could she have done to cause this...?_

Naru's anger had again dwindled, and her head drooped, tears dripping from her chin to the wood floor. To Motoko's aural vision, the girl's grief and pain were like a massive open wound that was bleeding out. She looked back at Keitaro's retreating form, and her eyes widened. The boy's own grief had contracted in on itself, forming a hard, tight ball of darkness. She had seen such spiritual wounds before, and knew that without the proper care, they could transform a person into someone completely different. Glancing at her friend once more, she resigned herself to the painful fact that the girl's wounds were beyond her. Only Naru herself would be able to do something about them.

_Kami-sama, I can't believe I'm doing this,_ she thought as she ran from the room after her manager, the only one for whom there was hope.

* * *

She caught up to him in the hallway and slowed, preparing herself as she tentatively reached a hand out to his shoulder.

_I've... never even done such techniques with a male before..._

The realization almost stayed her hand, but she closed her eyes, taking another look at his wounded aura.

_I can't just leave him like this._

With a sigh she released the slight distaste she felt, knowing she would have to be completely neutral if there was to be any hope at all. After another moment's hesitation, she touched his shoulder, and he stopped moving, tensing slightly. She opened her eyes, which had dilated almost completely as she entered a half-trance. Reaching inside him with an ethereal hand, she began to unravel the hard knot in the center of his being. This technique was one of the closest secrets of the Shinmei-Ryu, and was only used as a last resort to prevent a fellow member from committing wrongful Seppukku. It was painfully slow work, but after several minutes his shoulders began to shake beneath her hand. Finally her pupils returned to their normal size, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She doubted she could have accomplished the task on her own. The boy's desperate wish to forgive Naru was the only reason she had accomplished what she had. Despite his previous words, he had not truly been able to forgive her, and Motoko now knew the lie would have eventually eaten away his soul if it had been allowed to fester. She gasped as the boy suddenly turned and threw his arms around her, sobbing frantically.

"Na-Naru, why?!" he choked. "Please, just tell me why...?"

She stumbled backwards, falling heavily to the ground as his tears soaked into her gi-top. If it had been even one year earlier, she would have sent him through the wall for such an invasion of privacy, but her mind flashed back to when she had similarly collapsed against him. He had just been accepted into Tokyo-U, and had subsequently broken his leg trying to fulfill his promise to Naru.

* * *

Flashback

Motoko sat on the futon, her eyes downcast. Tsuroko had broken her sword, stripped her of her title, and left her. She was nothing, now. The fact that she was being cared for by a man with a broken leg only added to her suffering.

"Urashima, I haven't noticed before now..." she swallowed past the lump in her throat, but forced herself to speak. "...even though I call you a weakling and an idiot... the idiot and the weakling is really me."

"Don't... don't say that...!" Keitaro exclaimed. It hurt him to see the strong Motoko he had always known in such straights. "You..."

"Please, don't patronize me..." she murmured, her eyes hard. "Whether it's being a kendoist, or even being a girl, I just can't..."

He laid a hand on her head and smiled. "Motoko, forcing yourself too much isn't good either. You're fine just the way you are." The compassion she saw in his eyes sent her over the edge, and tears ran from her eyes.

"...wh-why are you so nice to me?" she asked, her voice quavering.

"Huh?" a look of bewilderment crossed his face as she threw herself against him, shaking with barely repressed grief. She felt his arms surround her, and the gentle touch only served to open the floodgates of her emotions. She did not feel him jerk his arms away a few seconds later. When she finally released her hold on him, she found that he had stuck clothespins all over his face in an attempt to divert himself from the feel of a woman in his arms.

End Flashback

* * *

She smiled at the bittersweet memory. He had stayed true to Naru even at that time, when she had still been actively denying that they even had a relationship. She sighed, considering her position.

_A warrior never forgets her debts._

She closed her eyes as she slowly put her arm around the sobbing boy.

_As you helped me back then, I swear to you Urashima, I will get to the bottom of this._


	2. Eric

Chapter 1 – Eric

The afternoon sunlight filtering into the study hall of Tokyo University did nothing to ease the early-winter chill seeping into the heated room that was normally filled with the busy silence of studying. The room was still and quiet, but this was an empty silence, and its sole inhabitant found herself unable to concentrate even so. Naru sat listlessly reading through the material for her next class, but not comprehending a word of what was on the pages before her. She was empty of tears, yet at the same time felt like she could cry an ocean, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had hoped to be able to lose herself in her studies as she had done before whenever she had boy troubles, but that option was obviously failing miserably.

_I really do suck,_ she sniffed angrily, putting another tissue to her nose and honking into it. _How could I let myself get into this mess?_

* * *

Flashback

The normally crowded main concourse of Tokyo University was very sparsely populated, and those that did walk the plaza were hurrying along. Most of the students had already left to go home for the holidays, or were preparing to leave, and those that were staying behind still had assignments and projects to complete.

"Narusegawa."

Naru almost ran into the young man, and indeed would have had he not said her name. She looked up in momentary confusion, and then recognition burned its way through her mind. A little over six feet, black hair, and features that were slightly rugged without being so weatherbeaten as to mar his natural handsomeness. An American exchange student, and the one with whom she had made the most grievous mistake of her life.

"Eric."

She did not know what else to say, and might have fled from him in shame were it not for the hold his eyes had on her. As she stood there wavering, what scared her the most was that her other inclination was to fall into his arms sobbing. She literally had no one at this point, and it was eating her alive. Oh, she was popular, and had joined several clubs, but she had no real close friends whose shoulder she could cry on. She had no one who would listen, and those she did have would offer her no pity, atleast not if they knew the whole truth.

"Who was he, Narusegawa?"

His tone was distant, but not cold. Maybe there was a touch of hurt in it, or perhaps sorrow. The voice that was normally brimming with warmth and cheerfulness was no longer there to comfort her, no longer there to bring her happiness. It had been stolen from her, by her own stupid mistake as much as by what Keitarou was to her. 'Who was he,' Eric had asked.

_Who is Keitarou to me?_ she wondered. After the longest most tumultuous 'relationship' she had ever been a part of, he had finally worked up the nerve to tell her his true feelings, that he loved her. He had blurted it out at such an inopportune time, in such an unromantic way, that even if she had been sure of her feelings it would have been difficult to answer him.

She had run from him without giving him an answer, and when she could run no longer, she had tried to keep their relationship as 'just friends.' The boy had pursued her relentlessly in his own way, meaning he constantly wavered between happiness with the status quo and desperately wanting more, but not knowing how to ask or convince her to change her mind. More than anything she wanted him to be more assertive, and to stop groping and peeking at her whenever he got the chance, but she knew that would never happen. People just didn't change like that overnight. Then he left for half a year on a study trip to America, and he did exactly that.

She had already been in love with him, though she never would have admitted it to anyone, but when he came back, that had been it. Incidents had forced them together as boyfriend and girlfriend, and he had even brought out a ring he had gotten in America and had all but proposed to her. A boyfriend/girlfriend relationship she had been willing to accept, but engagement? As usual, the timing had been terrible, even though she knew it had not been his fault. Events and incidents seemed to have pushed them together even while other forces seemed bent on tearing them apart, and in the end she had run from him.

He had chased her all the way to Noshappumisaki, Japan's northernmost point, and he had fallen off a cliff trying to put the ring on her finger. In a moment of clarity she had jumped after him and he had caught her, preventing them both from dying or being injured from the fall. Driven by the emotion of the scene, she had professed her love for him, and had accepted the ring.

All this went through her mind, not as words, or even as thoughts, but as one long smear of emotion that seemed to encompass the last year and a half she had spent with Keitarou. Who was Keitarou to her?

"I... don't know." Her voice was soft, and it wavered slightly. _But he probably thought we were a couple._ A part of her didn't want Eric to know how close she was... had been... to Keitarou, but she knew deep down that she had lost him as well. The kind American exchange student was too much like Keitarou to do anything else. It was why she had fallen for him in the first place. He was almost as compassionate as Keitarou, and he had the assertiveness and confidence that Keitarou lacked. He was in love with her, but like Keitarou, his sense of justice would not allow him to continue pursuing her in the face of this gross misconduct.

"He was holding a ring." The young man's voice was firm, but not biting. It held a deep sorrow, as if he knew the pain she was enduring. The pain he was forced to cause her with this conversation. "It was yours, wasn't it? He gave you that ring," Eric continued, and it was not really a question. "And you accepted it." There was a moment of silence between them, and Naru dropped her head, unable to meet his gaze. "Which means he loved you, and... you loved him."

Tears trailed down to her chin as she stood there, wavering. "No!" she exclaimed, then, "...yes. I mean... I don't..." She had never been more confused in her whole life, and she didn't know whether to run into his arms, or run away, and keep on running until she collapsed from exhaustion. She loved Keitarou, or part of him anyway. More than anything she wished at that very moment to be unencumbered, to be free to love Eric without any repercussions, and she knew how dirty that wish was. Without Keitarou, she might have given up on Tokyo University when she first failed to get in, and she might never have even met Eric even if she eventually had been accepted. In the end she did collapse, or would have if Eric had not caught her. She cried softly into his shoulder, unable to do anything else.

"Narusegawa..." But he could not continue with the impersonal surname. "Naru. I love you, but I don't know what's going on. You haven't told me everything, and... even if you did, I just don't feel comfortable any more." She could feel the stiffness in the way he held her, how he wanted to wrap his around her, but just could not do it. "I... can't trust you." She heard how his voice caught, and it only made her weep more profusely. "I hate saying this." Now he did embrace her, but it did not make her feel better, just more wretched. "I'm sorry, I just don't think... I don't..." She slipped from his embrace, and this time she did run. She ran blindly and without any destination in mind, until she could run no longer.

End Flashback

* * *

The third and second floors of Hinata Sou with a perfect wax finish, and Keitarou was currently battling the grime on the first floor. He had found it impossible to concentrate on his classwork, and this was one of the few things he had that was a responsibility and also something he could do without having to think. Or rather, without having to think about the task at hand.

_What am I doing?_ he thought in despair. _Where do I go from here?_ In some ways it was liberating. Looking back, he really had not realized just how desperately he had chased Naru, and how much energy the young woman had required from him. _But she was worth it. If only... if only..._ Tears gathered at the edges of his eyes as he tried with all his heart to figure out what he had done wrong, and if there was any way to somehow make up for what had happened. _No. Gotta work, gotta work._ He redoubled his efforts, trying to clear his mind of the pain.

"_Why couldn't you have acted more like a man?"_ she had said, and he realized she had a point. During his entire relationship with her he had done nothing but meekly comply with whatever had happened. He had chased her desperately, yet at the same time he had wavered whenever there was an important moment. Thinking back, he could see how it had infuriated her, and yet through it all she had still fallen for him.

_Was she my promised girl?_ He truly did not know. He had assumed from his and other's broken memories that it was either her or Mutsumi, but it might not be either of them. He closed his eyes against the tears that gathered there. _No!_ He shook his head angrily. _It doesn't matter._ He sighed, sitting down on the beautifully waxed floor, his head in his hands. _Even if it's not one of them, she has to be gone by now. I need to move on..._ Tears dripped down to make perfect little pools of liquid on the floor. He knew as he was now he would not be able to be a man to anyone, let alone some imaginary promised girl. _This is useless._ He clinched the cleaning rag in his fist. _I've got to do something. I'm no good to anyone in this state._

* * *

Naru lay her head down on her forgotten schoolwork, her eyes blank. After the circumstances under which she had confessed to Keitarou, she and he had gotten physical, and it had been the most liberating thing she had ever been a part of. It was both a good and a bad thing, for it had opened a whole new world to her. Because of the terrible experiences she had endured in her early years while living with her family, she had closed herself off and focused completely on getting into Tokyo University.

She had never imagined that confessing and becoming part of a physical relationship would be so fulfilling, and it had frightened her that she had fallen so completely for Keitarou. Still, she could not deny her feelings, atleast not until Eric had come along. The young man was everything Keitarou was and more, and it was because of Keitarou that she was open enough to recognize it. It so tore at her that she kept the two of them a secret from each other, mainly because each of them scratched a different itch, and they both loved her with all their heart.

She knew Eric was not perfect, especially in his studies, and yet the way the two of them had so easily meshed was uncanny. Both young men had needed her in their own way, Keitarou to give him focus, and Eric simply so he would study in the first place. The American's carefree attitude was something she just could not comprehend, having been driven all her life. In a way it reminded her of Mitsune.

Keitarou pursued her doggedly, never giving up until he had 'won' her, and then he had become completely happy with the status quo. Naru had been ready to go to the next level, but he apparently had not, for he never went beyond kissing, and he seemed so into his archaeological studies that it made her jealous. Eric had fallen for her, but was not so clingy as Keitarou had been at the beginning. It had drawn her to him even more, and the boy had paid just the right amount of attention to her. He had his own plans and goals, yet he made time for her. It was obvious he had been in relationships before, and he knew how to treat women. She knew it wasn't fair to Keitarou, that the boy had no experience whatsoever, yet she could do nothing but follow her feelings, that being all she knew. It was too bad that her feelings had betrayed her, and led her down such a terrible dead end. She had just as little experience as Keitarou, and it was obvious her feelings were untrustworthy. In truth, she and Keitarou would have been perfect, for they could have learned as they grew, but she had simply not recognized it at the time.

_I've got to talk to somebody, but who?_

* * *

The roof of Hinata-Sou was a calm and peaceful place, and it provided a stunning over-look of the city spread out below. It was for this reason that Shinobu so often came here when she needed a moment to herself, and it was for this reason that here Motoko did most of her training. The kendoist methodically performed the complex motions of one of the more elementary katas of the Shinmeiryu, and though her form was perfect, her thoughts were far away from the 'present moment' that was the secret to her school's power. As she came to rest in the final stance, she heard a familiar laugh from inside the Hinata and down one level.

"Nyahahaha-huh?"

The girl's distant laughter seemed interrupted for some reason, but the corner of Motoko's mouth still quirked slightly as she imagined Keitarou undergoing his usual travails at the hands of the lively young molmolian. Sitting smoothly and folding her legs beneath her, the kendoist closed her eyes to meditate briefly before going to the hotsprings and cleaning up before dinner. Several minutes later she was brought back to awareness by an approaching presence.

"Motoko-sama, Keitarou isn't himself again." Koalla Suu's tanned features wore a rare look of concern.

"Yeah, it's just like when he was studying for Tokyo-U." Suu's blond-headed partner-in-crime came to rest beside her, the intact archaeological specimen in her hands bearing silent witness to the fact that she had not broken it over the boy's head. "The dork's already been accepted, I don't see what his problem is."

The snarky young American was blithe and ignorant as always when criticizing her erstwhile victim, but Motoko could not bring herself to gainsay the girl.

"Oh, that's right," Sarah remarked with a knowing glint in her eye, "you actually like him when he's this way!"

This comment wiped away whatever calm her meditation had brought her, and she quickly rose to her feet to hide her moment of vulnerability. "I must clean myself in preparation for dinner. Do not keep Urashima from his duties as manager." Her loose-fitting clothes ruffled as she turned to leave.

"What now?" the young girl asked her tanned counterpart, who had mysteriously and rapidly changed into a Sherlock Holmes get-up, complete with ivory-stemmed pipe. The molmolian detective drew her brows together and solemnly blew a series of soap bubbles from the bowl of her pipe before answering.

"We need more clues." And so saying, she bounded off to find them, Sara at her heels.

Motoko passed by the top of the stairwell on her way towards her room, and Haruka's voice drew her attention. "Mail from your cram school," the demure woman said in a neutral tone as she waved a small packet.

* * *

It did not even register to Motoko that the floors were sparkling as she drifted back to her room, her death-knell held loosely in her hand. It was a small slip of paper that had a series of D's on it, and the words 'Lack of general study, impossible to get in.'

_How could I fail again?_ She thought desolately as she sank down in front of her study table, her head in her hands. _I put forth all my effort into studying, even neglecting my kendo skills. I... have become weak, and now I have failed in both aspects._ Kendo had been her life, and she had given it her all ever since she had come to Hinata. Then she had decided to test into Tokyo University, and for what reason? To an outsider if might have seemed silly that her warrior's pride had pushed her to enter Tokyo University after seeing Keitarou successfully accepted, and now she was on track to fail for a second time.

_What am I going to do?_ she asked herself furiously. _Naru-sempai has her own problems right now, and I cannot go to Keitarou. I just cannot! I..._ A soft knock on her door interrupted her musings, and she smoothly got up, wondering who it could be. It almost sounded like Shinobu, for no one else knocked that way. Koalla Suu would have burst in with no warning, and Keitarou would have barged in as well, most likely. Her mouth developed a small tic at that thought.

She slid the door aside to find that it was indeed Keitarou. The boy was on his knees, his forehead to the floor in a gesture of extreme respect, and the words on her tongue died away.

"Motoko-san, I humbly request that you teach me kendo!" the boy said, his voice stiff. It was the last thing she expected him to say, and it sent her mind into a brief turmoil. When he had returned to Japan after his six-month-long stint in the United States she had sparred with him once, and his skill had shocked her. The boy had held his own for a short while against her, and she had subsequently offered to train with him every morning. He had declined, undoubtedly because of the lack of time due to his classes and his duties as Manager of Hinata-sou. She had not been surprised at his decision, though she often wondered what would have come of such practices if he had agreed. A slight blush rose in her cheeks as her mind flitted back to the romance novels that she idly wrote whenever she needed something to take her mind off her studies and training.

"Urashima-san, I don't think..."

"Please!" the boy begged. "I need to learn discipline. I don't know what else to do!" He looked up at her with pain in his eyes. "If only I had been a better man, she... might not have..." the boy faltered in his confession, obviously not having meant to say as much as he had. "...never mind!" He scrambled to his feet and fled from the stunned kendoist, hitting the corner of the hallway as he tried to make the turn, then stumbling into an ornamental flower vase which was standing on a small table-stand in the corner of the turn in the hallway. Motoko did not even flinch when the vase hit the ground and shattered.

_Urashima-san, it is I who need to learn discipline. I do not know what help I would be to you as I am now._


	3. Illusions

Author's Notes: Thanks to Fanf1cfan who preread this. I had to re-edit it a little, because I accidentally posted it early, but anyway.

* * *

Chapter 2 – Illusions

The nearby trees rustled from a light breeze that did not quite reach him, and the early morning chill seeped its way through his clothing, but none of this fully registered. Even though he had absolutely no prior experience to draw on, Keitarou had assumed that meditation would heighten his other senses, if only because it was practiced with the eyes closed. While this may have been the case for the first few minutes, he actually found that outside stimuli seemed to diminish, as if he were drawing further into himself, while everything around him was almost completely muted.

It had been two days since Motoko had reluctantly agreed to teach him, which equated to two brutal lessons full of stances, postures, and katas that were completely alien to the normally bumbling manager. Despite his quick regenerative ability, his side still had a stitch in it from her most recent 'correction' of a posture.

"_No! I can see practically the length of your sword!"_ Her harsh words rang through his mind. _"Chudan-no-kamae should be held such that the sword-tip is pointed directly at the opponent's eyes!"_ After that, she had expertly woven her own bamboo practice sword through his ragged posture, clipping his floating ribs with a strike that would have disemboweled him had the fight been real. As it was, he had merely been sent into a world of blinding pain.

Before and after each lesson, they meditated, which he enjoyed far more, and yet ironically it was this aspect of her art that he knew the least about. She refused to go into any amount of detail beyond a few simple centering techniques which she told him would help relieve stress and deal with mental trauma. Her instructions had ended rather abruptly, and he had the feeling she had been waiting for him to explain more about what had happened between him and Naru, but he had simply been unable. In retrospect, he was glad that he had choked up, since the more he thought about it, the more he was sure she would be even less forgiving of Naru than he had been. Which led to the only down side of his frequent meditations.

Alone with his thoughts, there was no shield against the intruding memories he had of her, and what they had shared. What she had done was unforgivable, as hard as it was for him to admit it. She had done so many things to him over the years they had known each other, and he had grown accustomed to the idea that nothing she did could hurt him, that he could endure anything she dished out if only he could be around her. He had simply never considered that she might betray him this way. Kitsune had told him how Naru had rejected so many others before him, and it made him wonder what she saw in him, but he had eventually come to accept that whatever it was, she liked him. Even if she wasn't willing to admit it very often.

_How? Why?_ He had to restrain himself from breaking down and yelling the words out in sudden frustration. _Didn't I stick with you? Didn't I love you? What did I do wrong..._ With a sigh he released the emotions, to swirl around until they disappeared. Seemed to disappear, anyway. He knew they were still there, waiting. He imagined himself sitting on a mountain, and whenever emotion came to bother him, he would let it seep out of him and run down the steep cliff-face like water. It was just a little game, a meaningless visual to help him let her go, but it actually seemed to help in a way. Of course it also meant there was a giant pool of Naru somewhere down there slowly building up.

He nearly smiled at the sudden thought. _Where did _that_ come from?_ Of course, it fit with the visual he had begun to use, dangerous though it was. Might be, he corrected himself. _Wait, why would I think it would be dangerous?_ Because you're not truly dealing with the issue, you're just letting it build up, something seemed to say to him. He could imagine the advice coming from Motoko, or maybe Aunt Haruka, or even Granny Hina. Somehow it felt right imagining that it came from Motoko, however, since she was the one who was teaching him. In his mind's eye he could see her sitting beside him on the mountain. _She might actually be sitting beside me,_ he realized, and he had to resist the urge to open his eyes and look. The kendoist was silent when she wanted to be, and he would not hear her approach. He sighed, clearing his mind of worry.

_Be careful of the visuals you use,_ Motoko seemed to say to him, and he searched back, trying to remember if she had ever said anything similar to him. Her instructions regarding meditation had been frustratingly vague, and she had ignored his questions, saying that it was forbidden to go into further detail.

_Why?_ he wondered. _What's so dangerous..._

_You haven't been instructed. You don't know the repercussions of what you do, _the words rose in his mind.

_I'm going crazy,_ he decided. _Isn't talking to yourself one of the first signs?_ But he did need to deal with the hurt as opposed to pushing it away. If only the memories weren't so painful. Naru's cheerful image floated before him, her light brown hair moving freely as if she was running, and the image plunged him into a sea of anguish. The physical punishment she inflicted on him, even her sometimes harsh words had never hurt this much. Whatever she had said, whatever she had done to him, she had always been by his side in the end, always spending time with him. Showing him her smile, her warmth. The torment of seeing her show that and more to someone else had been beyond description, and it still tore at him. If he could not bring himself to hate the other guy, whoever he was, and if he fought against blaming Naru, he was left with only only himself to blame.

"_If only you had been more of a man!"_ Her words sliced through him like knives.

He fell to his knees surrounded by the formless mist of his own confusion. The shadows mocked him, each random shape reminding him of her touch, her laughter, her cheerfulness. Memories flowed around him, through him, melding together. Tears drifted down his face, floating away into nothingness. She had been everything to him, and he had no idea how he was going to live without her.

After a while, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up in surprise.

"Motoko..." Her hakama billowed from some invisible breeze.

"Rise, Urashima." Her tone was warm and her expression, serene. He stood up numbly, completely surprised by the peace that radiated from her in waves, pushing back the negative emotion surrounding him. It was so unlike the stiff seriousness he usually felt around her, and yet he realized he actually had seen this side of her once before. After she had used him as a guinea-pig for her special technique that attacked evil without harming the person, she had hugged him then, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin. He had never seen her so cheerful, or perhaps joyous was a better word.

Between one blink and the next, she was gone, but the peace remained. He could feel it integrate with his mood, creating a new equilibrium. Though the pain was still there, it was no longer unbearable. He opened his eyes to the real world, wiped the wetness from his cheeks with the sleeve of his gi, and reached for his glasses. When he put them on, he found Motoko looking at him from across the courtyard. He thought he saw a kind of softness in her eyes as she made her way to where he sat, but decided it must have been his imagination, for by the time she had reached his side, her face held the seriousness he had come to know and expect during their training.

* * *

Mitsune Konno prided herself in her ability to cope with the lousy hand life had dealt her, or perhaps 'prided' is the wrong word. In any case, Mitsune, Kitsune to her friends, wandered through her days in a perpetual state of intoxication. Whether it was lightly buzzed, or raging drunk, she was rarely without at least some alcohol in her bloodstream, and yet her reporter's senses were very finely honed no matter how badly smashed she happened to be at any one point in time. Thus it was that when she happened by Haruka's Tea Shop this fine morning, her ears picked up the unmistakable sound of some hapless soul being given the Urashima Shoulder.

Crash. "HOW COULD YOU??" Haruka's shout contained equal parts anger and horror.

Kitsune staggered around the corner of the Tea Shop expecting to find Keitarou giving some excuse to his Aunt for whatever he had done this time, and she was wholly unprepared for what she saw. Lying in a crumpled heap in the middle of the street was Naru. She pulled herself back to where she could not be seen, flailing her alcolol-hazed mind as she attempted to make sense of the situation. Haruka had never ever gotten physical with any of the Hinata girls that she could remember.

_Oh, well, except for that one incident with Motoko,_ she corrected herself. _But once was all it took. She and Granny Hina never _had_ to do anything else after that._

Just what had Naru done? Kitsune's friendship with the girl dictated that she give her privacy, and not try to overhear what was happening, but her scheming side was already fully at work, desperately curious as to what would make Haruka snap like this.

_She's my friend. She'll tell me eventually, so I might as well overhear now so I can think up some good advice for when she does eventually confide in me._

Her conscience assuaged for the moment, she peeked around the corner.

* * *

Haruka stormed out of the tea-shop, anger and pity vying for control of her normally stolid features. She swept across to Naru's prone form, enveloping the girl in a hug.

"How could you?" she repeated, squeezing the weeping girl tightly. She could not fathom what was going on in Naru's mind that could have made this possible in even the most extreme of situations. _No, that's not true,_ she thought with a sigh, as memories of her own love triangle with Seta rose in her mind. "When did this begin?" she asked, her voice slightly subdued.

"I-I met him after getting into Tokyo-U," Naru choked out.

"...and?" Haruka prodded.

"-and, um," Naru paused, wiping the back of a hand across her eyes. "-we started going out."

"Before, or after?"

"Before or after what?" she asked, looking up with puffy eyes.

"The ring, Naru!" Haruka snapped, then took a moment to calm herself. "Before or after the ring? ...which I notice you're not wearing any more."

"He took it back." She looked down at her now-vacant finger that still bore the mark of the simple golden band which had adorned it until recently.

"I don't blame him," Haruka said softly.

"...after," Naru answered the woman's former question.

Haruka dropped her crumpled cigarette, extracted a fresh one from her pocket, and took a moment to raise it to her lips and light it.

"It would have been easier to believe you took so long in answering Keitarou because all this time you had another boyfriend you weren't telling him about."

"I swear that's not true!" Naru exclaimed, guilt written all over her up-turned face. "I meant what I said to him that day." She looked down again, tears gathering at her chin and falling to the ground.

"...and the other guy?"

Naru's hesitation was all the answer she needed. The older woman shook her head disbelievingly.

"Haruka, they both left me." her voice trembled. "So why are they still in my heart, fighting with each other?"

Haruka gazed steadily at the suffering young woman in front of her. "I think that's something you should ask Seta," she said, turning to go back to her Tea Shop. "He's the one with the special insight in this kind of situation." Though her face had returned to neutrality, her words echoed the hurt she still felt even now.

* * *

Kitsune leaned back, the wooden slats of the Tea Shop's outer wall digging into her back as she tried to come to grips with what she had heard. _I need a drink,_ she decided. _Check that, I need a whole bottle._ A part of her was actually happy that Naru had seemingly broken off relations with Keitarou, and that part disgusted her. A wave of nausea forced her to her knees, her stomach churning. If anything the boy needed her sympathies, not her seductions. She felt like throwing up, and she didn't know if it was from her own mixed feelings, Naru's stupidity, or that half-bottle of Sake she had consumed earlier in the morning. _I think I'll go finish it off now,_ she decided, rising unsteadily to her feet and heading for the stone stairway leading up to Hinata-Sou.

* * *

Sweat ran down Keitarou's face in rivulets as he knelt, his legs under him, his palms pressed together in front of him, his eyes closed. His entire body shook from exhaustion, but she had warned him to expect no mercy. Motoko sat about five feet in front of him, both of them facing north. He could hear the quiet snap of her gi-sleeves as she traced ancient Kanji in the air before her. Silence, then a slight scrape told him she had completed the ritual and turned around. He opened his eyes hesitantly, and her calm face stared back at him, her expression as unmoving as if it had been chiseled in stone. Placing his palms flat on the ground before him, the thumb tips and finger tips of each hand touching the other so that they formed a triangle, he prostrated himself in a deep reverential bow, and heard the light rustle indicating that she had done the same.

Sitting back up, he was relieved to see a hint of life return to her eyes. It was his third training session, but he still felt a slight tension every time she donned her 'teaching mask.' Her methods were rigorous and harsh, but he knew better than to think this was the 'hell training' she had once threatened to inflict upon him. It made him shudder to think about what that might be like, now that he had an idea of her normal training.

"I know I've already said this, but, umm..." He placed his palms together again. "Thank you for teaching me."

Motoko put her own palms together. She knew he was unaware of the ritual phrase he had initiated, which made it all the more meaningful, since it was obviously from his heart. "Thank you for allowing me to teach you," she spoke the ritual counter-phrase, a touch of warmth in her tone. They both allowed a moment of peaceful silence to separate the end of the lesson from the rest of the day.

"How are your studies?" he asked, changing the subject as the thick atmosphere present in every session so far began to dissipate.

"Well enough," she answered, absently running a hand through the silken black tresses rolling off her gi-top in waves. "...if you ignore certain math scores," she amended, her lips delicately turning down. As the two of them began going back and forth about trigonometry and its more complex facets, she watched his carefully expressive face. _He's hiding something,_ she realized. _Or something is bothering him._ His finger traced diagrams into the sawdust on the training floor as he launched off into a rather involved explanation. The two had begun conducting their exercises on the roof of Hinata's main building where she normally trained alone. "It's not that," she interrupted him. "What I don't understand is how..." she had suddenly gestured to a section of his impromptu drawing, and their fingers had brushed. A hint of crimson found its way to her pale cheeks, and she pressed on, hoping he had not noticed. He did not hesitate in his answer, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow she could go through hours of intense close-quarters combat with him and not feel so much as a twinge of discomfort, but outside of training, even his gaze was enough to fluster her.

"...Sensei? Um, Sensei?"

Keitarou's worried glance snapped her back to the present, and she desperately fought off the rising wave of embarrassing feelings. "Something is bothering you, Urashima."

"It looks like something's bothering _you_," he answered in his usual blithe tone of voice, raising a hand to scratch the back of his head and grinning a little.

"What bothers you is what is bothering me," she answered calmly. "Your meditation, how does it progress?" She was surprised to see him drop his hand, then his head, and blush lightly. She had not expected to so quickly hit the mark of whatever was troubling him. "If this concerns the meditation, it is important," she pressed gently.

"I kind of saw..." he swallowed. "...something. Maybe." he smiled wanly as if at some hidden joke. "I'm probably going crazy, but I think I saw you." He would not meet her gaze, for which she was eternally grateful, because she could practically feel the heat radiating from her face. "You... helped me, or something. Helped me deal with," he cleared his throat. "...a very painful memory."

_Kami!_ She took a deep breath, doing her best to banish the emotions that threatened to intrude on the neutrality she needed so desperately. She had not been looking forward to this particular aspect of the technique she had used on the boy earlier in the week. _It was inevitable,_ she told herself. Even under the best of circumstances, there would have been lingering echoes of what she had done, and the circumstances had been far from the best. She was not even a full Shinmei-Ryu practitioner, and his wounds had been horrific. With a start, she realized he had been staring at her for the past several seconds.

"Explain things to me fully," she commanded. "In as much detail as possible." Her expression was grave, and she watched with satisfaction as his face returned to the seriousness she saw when she taught him. As he explained, her heart sank. There was no choice. After he had finished, she nodded, steeled herself, and spoke. "We will meditate," she said. He nodded, closing his eyes. "Come forward, Urashima," she said, trying to keep the strain from her voice.

His eyes snapped open. "Umm..." she saw the words die on his tongue.

"Do not question me," she said evenly. "I cannot answer. Come forward, and close your eyes."

He did so, coming forward until their knees were almost touching, then bowed his head. She reached forward and took his hands in hers, trying to ignore their warmth, and willing his eyes to stay shut. He jumped, but did not look up. "Calm," she said, as much to herself as to him, then closed her eyes.

* * *

Very finely-grained sandpaper, with an underpinning of silk. And so very warm. He knew intellectually that her hands would be calloused, but he had never before had a chance to really feel them. Dragging his thoughts back to center, or as near as he could get to that elusive state, he tried to focus inward as he had been taught. It took far longer than normal, but eventually his senses faded, leaving nothing but their shared touch. _Damnit, this isn't helping! She's going to kill me if I don't keep my mind out of the gutter._ The more time he spent around her, the more he was convinced she had some kind of ESP. She had to know the trouble he was having with this exercise, and the reasons. _Why is she even doing this?_

He knew she would punish him if he spoke, but it felt like he was spinning his wheels, to the point of slipping backwards. As the minutes wore on he was becoming more and more aware of her. Of her scent. He was about to break the silence and ask her for instructions, when he began to see an outline in front of him. At first he thought he was somehow seeing her shape through his closed eyelids, but as the shadow solidified, he knew this was not the case. The billowing gi and flowing hair told him who it was before him, as if the fact that their hands were clasped was not enough. Deep pools of darkness resolved into her eyes, which seemed to look through him, laying bare all his secrets.

_Urashima._ Her ethereal voice shot through him like lightning, but he did not flinch.

_I've heard that voice before,_ he realized. _Just a few hours prior, during meditation._

_That was not me,_ she corrected him. _Merely a shadow._ He waited for her to continue, not knowing what to say. Trepidation warred with other emotions he tried to ignore. _Do you remember what happened a week ago?_ She asked. Naru's face passed across his consciousness and he closed his eyes against the harsh feeling of emptiness that clawed at him. Tears filled his eyes marring her image, which began to smear and flow like a still-wet painting left out in the rain. He remembered anguish forming itself into a tight ball in his throat. He remembered a hand on his shoulder, and falling into Motoko's surprised embrace.

_I'm sorry!_

_Calm yourself,_ she insisted. _That was as much my fault as yours._

_What,_ he stopped himself, remembering her initial command against questions.

_I helped you,_ she explained. _The hurt, it was eating away at who you were, if I had not, it would have..._ she stopped, and he wondered what she would have said. Feared what she would have said. _What I did was incomplete. I must fix things,_ her voice was quietly urgent. _Do you trust me?_

_Yes, Sensei._ His answer was quick, even as doubt crept its way through him.

_With your permission,_ she said, releasing his hands. She placed one hand on his heart and the other on his forehead. Images flashed by too fast for him to grasp, running through his mind as if through a sieve.

Some time later, warmth drew him back to consciousness. Warmth on his forehead, and over his heart. The heat disappeared suddenly and he opened his eyes to see her drop her hands to her lap, her expression unreadable.

"What did you do to me back then?" The words rasped their way through his dry throat, even though he knew the answer already. For a moment he wondered if he was asking simply to see if she would admit the truth.

"I helped you," her words choked themselves off at the anger that was building on his face. "I helped..."

"You kept me from killing myself." He saw the effects his cold words had on her, and he knew he would regret his words later, but his emotions were still too raw to control.

"You say that like it's a crime," she said quietly.

"The way you did it might well have been," he bit the words off. "Do I even have free will any more?" He had never felt such anger, and it frightened him, but he was also frightened by what Motoko had done. "Who are you to decide? Who are you to play God?"

"Keitarou, I pulled you back from a cliff," her voice broke.

"No, you _brainwashed_ me into thinking there _was_ no cliff." He stood, turned his back on her and walked to the edge of the courtyard atop Hinata-Sou. He turned, bowed in ritual deference to their impromptu training grounds, and left.

* * *

A pair of watchful eyes peeked over the edge of the balcony. _I'm a water spirit,_ Mutsumi told herself. _That's all, just a water spirit._ And for once it worked. Neither Keitarou nor Motoko noticed her. In the distance, the kendoist stood smoothly, turned, and left.

"Ara!" Mutsumi raised a hand to her mouth, muffling her surprised yelp. _This is most intriguing. What are you up to, Urashima-kun?_

* * *

The tired kendoist passed silently through the halls of Hinata-Sou, making her way to her room, but her thoughts were back on the roof. _He is my student. I should have punished him for his irreverent behavior,_ a corner of her mind told her. Yet his words, disrespectful though they were, tore at her. No matter how she tried to massage the facts, her decision to use that invasive technique had been an impulsive one born partly of desire to take advantage of the situation. It was obvious there had been some falling-out between Naru and Keitarou, and if she did nothing, Mutsumi or Kanako would snap him up and have their way with him.

_He was truly hurting,_ she argued. True enough, her conscience replied. _Had I done nothing, he might have killed himself._ Also true. Might have. She had weighed the risks, and wanted to believe her judgment had been made solely with Keitarou's interests in mind, but she knew that was not true. She paused, her hand on the wall, her head bowed as she remembered how close he and Naru had become. Close enough that they had taken part in torrid acts usually seen only in her own romantic novels. She looked down at her hand, before reaching up and idly touching her lips.

_The truth is I too want to become close with him in that way..._ She closed her eyes, shuddering once. _Keitarou, was it truly so wrong to keep you from killing yourself just so I might have a chance?_ She began walking again only to be stopped by an animated conversation coming from Sara's room, which she had just passed.

"No, no, I got that problem all worked out!" Suu's cheerful voice leaked out from around the partially closed door. "See? I brought my laptop. It's got an interactive map of Hinata, so plug the Keitarou-Detector into it and voilla!" Motoko automatically braced for an explosion, but this time it seemed that the lively young inventor had not built a self-destruct into whatever it was she had created.

"So you can track and record wherever the dork's been? Wow."

"Nyahaha! I've had this baby running for the past week." Suu's voice was full of anticipation. "Once we see where he's been going, maybe we'll find out what's wrong with him!" Motoko pressed a hand to the wall, slipping closer to the open door. This bore investigation, if only to keep the two of them from ruining Keitarou's fragile peace. "Ohohoho! He's been spending an awful lot of time in the hot-springs! Looky, six hours yesterday alone!"

All thoughts of Keitarou's peace went out the window as Motoko clinched her fist around the sword at her waist. Sara's reply was lost as she continued down the hall, her thoughts in turmoil. _Surely not. Perhaps the detector merely caught him cleaning. _Six hours of cleaning, her sword sneered. Not likely. _No. He would not do something like this. Not after..._ Motoko stopped herself. _Why am I defending him? Now that he and Naru are estranged, he is more likely than ever to need an outlet for his perversions. And I have been training with such a person._ She ground her teeth. She was completely out of range of the doorway, so she did not hear Suu's next statement.

"Oh! Ahahah, I keep forgetting, it's automatically set on 'turtle.' Hold on, I'll fix it."

"Oh. Well that explains that." Sara's voice held a hint of sadness.

* * *

The Manager's room was quiet, for once, but its sole inhabitant could not study. He threw down his pencil and put his head in his hands. _Why did I have to get so angry? She probably hates me now. _He sighed. _I should've at least listened to her explanation..._ It still rankled him that she had invaded his privacy, but it hurt more that he had probably lost another of the girls because of his own failings. _She was only trying to help. I've made enough mistakes over the years I've been here, why did I have to lose my temper now of all times?_ After several minutes of deliberation, he finally got to his feet and walked over to the door of his room. _Alright, I need to go make this right. As a man, I can't let this go on any longer..._ He pulled open the door and almost ran into Motoko, who was passing by at that moment.

"Waaah! I'm sorry!" He jumped back, throwing up his hands.

"Do not hinder me, Urashima." Her tightly controlled voice drew him out of his startlement, and he noticed how she was clinching her sword, and the anger that was radiating off of her in waves.

"...um," he steeled himself, and bowed at the waist. "Sensei, I wanted to apologize for earlier, I shouldn't have lost my temper. I-"

"Cease your excuses," she snapped, cutting him off. "Consider yourself lucky I do not strike you down here, but rest assured, if I catch even a hint of your perversions with my own eyes or ears, no apology will save you." Turning on her heel, she stalked off.

Keitarou scratched his head, trying to think back and remember anything he might have done in the recent past that could have been construed as perverted. Except for her classes, Naru had mostly kept to her room the past week, which had drastically cut down on his orbital trips. In fact, since their break-up, he could not remember her punishing him. He let out a long sigh as he closed the door and then leaned back against it. _I wouldn't be surprised if her punishments were some special part of our relationship._ A sense of melancholy descended over him as he thought back to several of the more memorable trips he had taken via the Naru Express. She always did seem the happiest when she was sending him on his way for whatever accidental groping he had most recently committed. _I'm a masochist,_ he decided, trying to push away the depression that threatened to overwhelm him. _Why else would I immediately start training with Motoko after losing Naru?_

He sank down to a sitting position with a sigh. He could feel himself losing the battle against the rising tide of sadness. Closing his eyes, he decided to meditate. _She'll probably never teach me again, but at least I can use what I know..._

* * *

It was easier to drop into the trance-like state than before, and he wondered briefly if he was getting better at it, or if it were determined by his mood. Motoko's shade was nowhere to be found, but Naru as always was just around the corner of his mind's shadows.

_Why couldn't you have been just a little more assertive,_ she seemed to say. The contradiction grated on him, and for once he spoke back.

_Every time I was assertive, you would hit me! Or we would get interrupted. Or you would run away..._ It felt therapeutic to say these things to her shadow, words he could never say to her face.

_I just didn't understand my own feelings. _She sounded sad, or perhaps wistful. _I wasn't willing to admit them. But I told you I loved you!_ Her outline taunted him.

_And I told you I loved you. So why did you betray me?!_ With each word, weights seemed to lift from his limbs.

_I didn't know how nice a physical relationship could be, until we finally got together. But all you cared about was your stupid archaeological stuff! Why couldn't you spend more time with me?_ The shades and colors were beginning to fill in, but she still looked like a bad drawing from a children's coloring book.

_Naru, we live in the same building. We go to the same school. I thought we _were_ doing stuff together. I loved you, including your dream of teaching._ He could feel the tears freely running down his face, but he didn't care. _Why couldn't you love me and accept _my_ dreams?_

_I... you never went beyond kissing. Was that going to be it?_ The shading and colors suddenly turned lifelike as her voice took on a hint of frustration.

_What?? So let me get this straight, first you beat me if I even look at you, and then you expect me to know you suddenly want sex??_

Anger gave form to the swirls and lines, transforming her into the Naru he knew. _Shut up, idiot! You're a guy, it should be on your mind anyway!_ He sat mesmerized by her snarling face, the sharp arch of her brows.

_For years I was the one moving too fast for you. I'm dense, I realize that, but I caught on, and slowed down. And then when you finally admit you love me, I'm suddenly the bad guy for not wanting to immediately get down and dirty?_ _And this somehow justifies what you did? _He saw the effect his words had on her, but they were from his heart and he could not stop them. Did not want to stop them. Even as her face crumpled, and tears slid down from her eyes, he could only feel the hurt he knew when he had seen her in another's arms, and he wanted her to feel it. His momentary anger guttered out, and he watched as her weeping visage faded away into nothingness. Yet as he felt the relief that came from finally speaking his mind, he also felt strangely sad.

When he came back to himself, the room was dark with the shadows of evening, and he picked himself up with a grunt of surprise, looking at the clock on his dresser. _Three hours?_ He reluctantly pushed himself into motion, knowing he didn't have much time if he wanted to bathe before supper. He did not hear the strangled gasp in the room above, nor was he there to see her tear-streaked face, which she buried in the pillows of her futon, trying to blot out the words echoing through her mind.

* * *

Supper was a tense affair, which Keitarou found strange, since until now both he and Naru had shown no overt sign of their falling-out, at least not during meals. She wore a ring, but it was not his. He had no idea if it had been given to her by someone else or if she had simply bought one as a cover to their break-up, and he didn't have the courage to ask her. _Not that it's even any of my business at this point,_ he thought with a sigh. Her smile and conversation were somewhat forced, but he doubted the others had picked up on it. He knew it would not last, that eventually any one of the many little things he had loved about her would break him down. Her cheerful smile. The quiet confidence she exuded. Her seemingly limitless energy when she was talking about something that interested her. When she came down to supper this day, however, her face had obviously just been washed, but he could see that her eyes were slightly puffy, as if from recent crying. Shinobu brought out the food as everyone helped set the table, and Mutsumi regaled them all with a riveting tale of watermelons and their upkeep.

Keitarou surreptitiously looked around, wondering at the strange mood, then he realized what was wrong. Normally it was Kitsune or Suu telling them stories, which was why Mutsumi usually never got a word in melon-wise. The ash-blonde had a look of intense thought, which seemed odd on her normally sanguine face. Naru was more subdued than usual, and Motoko refused to meet his eyes, though he imagined he could feel the subtle undercurrent of anger she still carried from their previous encounter. Even Suu was less talkative.

"Oh, by the way, I fixed the detector now," the Molmolian said, waggling her eyebrows conspiratorially. Her blonde co-conspirator nodded sagely. At these words, Motoko's normally Kyoto-white skin paled even further, and she glanced in Keitarou's direction. He met her gaze, question in his eyes, and she fidgeted a moment or two before looking back down to her food. Her anger seemed to have vanished. The remainder of the meal passed in relative normalcy.

He pushed himself away from the table with a sigh of relief. Another meal successfully endured. He knew that once the secret was out, the delicate balance of Hinata-Sou would be ruined, and he feared it would be impossible to pick up the pieces.

* * *

The Manager's room was dark, evening shadows having already crept their way past his futon. From where he lay, the ragged edges of the hole above him were lost in the darkness as well. Despair weaved its way through his mind as he considered and discarded one scenario after another. No matter what else happened, if Naru were to leave, the all-girl's-dorm would fracture as surely as if an earthquake had hit the building itself. It was almost an impossibility to hope that her secret would stay hidden long enough for the wounds between the two of them to heal over, if that ever happened. There were far too many trouble-seekers and opportunists living under Hinata's roof to even entertain the thought. A soft knock interrupted his musings, dragging him from the futon to the door. He slid it aside to find the one person he had not expected to see any time soon.

"Urashima, I find that I must apologize."

"No, no! I'm the one who should be sorry," he insisted, one hand behind his head while the other waved her off. "I lost my temper after you agreed to take time from your schedule to train me, and..."

"Please do not make this any harder than it already is," she said, still not looking up, and his hurried explanations died away. "I overheard something, and jumped to the wrong conclusion. It is something I fear has happened many times, but only now am I beginning to see."

"Well, don't worry about it," he mumbled, looking away in embarrassment. "Everyone does that at one time or another."

She looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You are the most understanding and forgiving man I have ever met," she said quietly. "Do not let anyone tell you otherwise." Uncomfortable silence filled the air between them.

"...err, thank you, Sensei," he finally said.

"Am I still that?" she asked quietly.

"I still need the instruction," he answered simply. "Oh, umm," he paused, then decided to press on anyway. "I did kind of have a question."

"Ask." Her eyes had become twin emerald pools of darkness, unreadable now that she had once again donned the mantle of teacher.

"Is it possible that I'm seeing Naru the same way I see you during our shared meditation?"

Her eyes widened. "Explain."

He did, and after two blinks, she turned and disappeared into the darkness. "Come with me, we must meditate." The tension in her voice belied her calm exterior as he followed. What she had done still lingered in his mind, but he did not allow it to influence him. Her open apology had told him all he needed to know about her character. _Narusegawa, you don't know how many times I wish I had heard even a hint of an apology from your lips for any of the things you've done to me._

* * *

Teacher and student sat on the open balcony atop Hinata-Sou, the remnants of sunset painting the sky a mirage of pastels and purples. Their hands were joined, and this time they both found it much easier to descend into the trance-state necessary for meditation. Behind closed eyelids he saw her figure waver into view as the sounds of nature faded into the background.

_Just what kind of connection do you share with her?_ Motoko asked, lifting a hand to his forehead, concern on her normally blank features.

_...ahm,_ he swallowed past the lump in his throat._ You mean besides... the ring..._ he found it difficult to continue.

_No,_ she said gently. _I can see that link has already been shattered, but something binds you still._

He thought for several moments, then it hit him. _Oh._ His gaze dropped. _The promise._

_What?_

_I thought,_ he pushed on despite the emptiness that gripped his heart. _It looked like she was my promised girl, for a while there. I made a promise,_ he explained, feeling the question in her eyes._ To a girl in my childhood that we both would go to Tokyo-University and obtain happiness there._

_I see._ Motoko's silence confirmed what had once been his fondest hope and was now his worst fear.

_You're saying she really is the girl of my promise?_

_Yes, unless you have some other deeper bond that I do not know about._

Naru. The promised girl. She had been by his side the whole time, and he hadn't even known it. _Why?_ He pleaded with the darkness surrounding him. _Naru, it wasn't supposed to end like this!_ She was the girl of his promise, yet at the same time she had shown him with her actions that she did not want to be with him. The two of them had been fated to be together. _What went wrong?_ His mental voice weakened, breaking up. _This is all my fault. If only I had... had..._

_Urashima._ Her grip tightened on his hand as malevolent shadows began to separate them. _Keitarou!_ The urgency in her tone buoyed him for a moment, but the ponderous waves of despair did not let up, pulling him deeper. _As long as the bond is still there, it will drag you down like a sinking ship!_ Her voice was distant, and he struggled to make out the words.

_Sensei._ He had no idea if she still heard him. _Motoko... Don't worry about me. I'm not worth..._ Her hand slid from his grasp, and he was finally alone. It was what he had expected, after the mess he had made with his relationship with Naru. _It's for the best, _he told himself. _All I do is hurt those around me..._ His thoughts were interrupted by a feeling of warmth on both sides of his head. Motoko's face materialized out of the mist, and his eyes widened.

_Keitarou, I love you._ Those four simple words burned their way through his mind, cleansing him of everything extraneous as her face moved closer. When her lips touched his, a weight seemed to lift from his heart, and he nearly wept as peace washed over him for the first time since that day he had walked in to find his dreams shattered.

Consciousness returned to him in stages. Warmth on both sides of his head where her hands gently held him. Velvet softness of her lips on his own. His eyes snapped open, the last lingering sliver of sun playing off the curve of her neck inches from his nose. A soft breeze moved the black silken strands of her hair, carrying a hint of peach conditioner.

_I'm dead,_ he decided. _I'm so dead when she realizes what she's doing._ She gasped, pulling away suddenly, her breath hot against his mouth. He looked up in surprise, realizing someone was overshadowing them.

"I see. So this is how it is." Tsuruko was a statue of opal-white, her clothes moving gently in the evening breeze. Her eyes narrowed. "This is the second time you have made the right decision for the wrong reasons." The packet containing tuition for Tokyo-University fluttered to the ground.

"Sister, I..." Motoko turned her head away to hide her blush of shame.

"Silence!" The word was like a whiplash, and her eyes turned demonic. "Do not take me for a fool! You failed the entrance exam, and now you have stolen another's heart, using sacred techniques no less!" Her unsheathed sword sliced its way through the night air, and Keitarou was astonished to see Motoko offer no resistance. In one smooth motion he drew the Hina blade from where it rested at her hip, interposing himself between her and her executioner. The sharp ring of hardened steel against steel echoed across the roof courtyard.

"She did not 'steal' anything," he said calmly, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Do not defend me, Keitarou." Sorrow dripped from her quiet words. "You do not know..."

"I trust you, Sensei," he said, his voice firm. He felt her shift, perhaps getting to her feet.

"I do not deserve your trust."

He felt the wind of her departure, but didn't dare to take his eyes from Tsuruko. _As if I could actually fight her,_ he thought helplessly. The woman lowered her sword, her eyes hard.

"You don't know what's been done to you," she spoke harshly.

"I know more than you think," he answered.

"That only adds to her sins."

Keitaro wondered at this. Motoko had told him she was not allowed to teach him certain things concerning the meditations and techniques, but had she been breaking her code by telling him anything at all? Picking up the saya Motoko had dropped, he sheathed the Hina blade smoothly without taking his eyes from her. That he could do that without lopping off a hand spoke a little to his dedication over the past week.

"Whatever her reasons," Keitarou spoke slowly, "she made the right decision. You said so yourself."

Tsuruko gave an ancient-sounding sigh. "Despite what little you may have been taught, you obviously have not been imbued with the importance our school places on one's intentions."

"To be fair, it's only been a week," he said. _Besides, I'm pretty sure I know her intentions, now._ They had been made clear from the four words that still smoldered in his mind. _"Keitaro, I love you."_ His eyes were drawn by movement below. A figure jogged across the moon-lit courtyard, a woven kasa covering her head and throwing her entire body into shadow. Her. Even without the hair, he recognized her. _Motoko? No!_ He ran towards the stairs and his room, his mind racing.

"Let her go Keitaro!" Tsuruko's voice floated after him. "She's always been difficult like this."

* * *

He exited out the doors of Hinata-Sou and got several dozen meters before stopping momentarily and glancing back at the upper courtyard. Tsuruko's unmoving figure stood, looking out into the distance where Motoko had vanished. _I'm sorry Naru._ Nostalgia, and pleasant memories, tugged at him. _I'm sorry everyone,_ he amended. Settling the back-pack on his shoulders, he turned and sprinted off after his teacher.


	4. Fracture

Chapter 3 – Fracture

Preread by Fanf1cfan -- thanks a bunch for your help, the story would be a pale imitation without your assistance keeping them all in character.

The night shadows mocked him as he ran, trees passing by on either side like silently laughing fans watching a single-runner marathon. Keitaro was dead tired and cursing the intense training Motoko had put him through earlier in the day. _Yesterday,_ he amended, sparing a moment to collapse against a tree and glance at his illuminated watch dial. _Why is it always like this?_ He wondered, desperately heaving the night air through his lungs as he moved his limbs carefully to stave off muscle lock-up and paralysis. So far, every woman that had bared her heart to him had subsequently gone on an impromptu cross-country tour. _Am I really that bad?_ A chuckle escaped him between gasps. He pulled a bottle of water from his backpack, taking a short drink as his breathing calmed down. Pushing himself off the tree, he began jogging again in what he hoped was the direction Motoko had taken during her flight from Hinata. He got several dozen meters before his legs gave way. _Damn, I guess that was my limit._ The final despairing thought turned out the lights as it left him.

Through the haze of pain that separated the real world and the dream world, he caught a glimpse of trees obscuring the night sky, and half-a-moon peering down on him. Hanging onto his fraying strands of consciousness, he attempted to enter the meditative state as he had been taught. He experienced a moment of triumph as the forest sounds muted around him, until he realized that everything going blank was, in this case, most likely him losing consciousness.

Phantom images danced at the edges of his vision, taunting him. _Sensei! _He desperately reached out after the figure that seemed so tantalizingly close as the cloying darkness enveloped him. _Motoko!_

His head touched the cool grassy forest floor, or maybe it had been laying there all along. "-Motoko," he slurred, his eyes drooping shut.

* * *

Sarah McDougal lay on her futon, her hands behind her head, deep in thought. The worried expression marring her ten-year-old face would have been enough to send a child-psychiatrist into paroxysms, but beyond that, the fact that it had only been two minutes since the morning sun peeked its way over the horizon only exacerbated the strangeness of the situation. To be fair, her situation and background was as unique and heartbreaking as most of the other tenants in Hinata-Sou, but she was still ten years old, a time during which one should be laughing and playing, not lying in bed worrying the early morning hours away.

Coming to some internal decision, she bounded out of bed, tension in her step as she slipped into a pair of house shoes and left her room. Worry and anger battled for dominance on her face as she jogged down the hall. She stopped momentarily, retraced her steps, then returned to continue her errand, a large round archaeological specimen in her hand.

_I'll put this through his head, _then_ I'll ask him what's wrong._

Far be it from Sarah McDougal to give Keitaro any indication that she cared what happened to him. Her footsteps took her to the manager's room door, which she quickly slid aside, raising the half-way-cracked stone mask above her head in preparation.

_Gone._

The room was empty, and Keitaro was gone. How she was certain of this she did not know. Maybe it was the way some of his things were scattered about, while others were simply missing. Like his back-pack. He had no classes this early, and there was no other reason for him to be going out with it. The ancient relic slipped from her nerveless fingers, bouncing hollowly on the wooden floor as she turned and ran towards Suu's room.

_Stupid Keitaro, running off and leaving when he's supposed to be looking out for me!_ Frantic tears gathered at the edges of her eyes, and she was beyond caring who saw. _Stupid papa for never being there when I need him!_

* * *

Haruka's Tea Shop was empty except for Kitsune, who had been there the entire night. She muttered to herself darkly as she lost count for the third time. Haruka walked in looking far too fresh for such an early hour. She gave a cheery wave to the struggling ash-blonde.

"Hey, sorry about pushing you to do this, but if you're going to learn how to run this place, it's something you'll have to take care of!"

"Right..." Kitsune sat back, groaning in frustration at the long string of numbers before her, and the terrible crick in her back. If she were truthful with herself, it was neither the numbers nor the crick that was causing so much trouble. _Damn that Naru!_ She clinched her fist, a vein bulging in her forehead. _Until I talk with her, I ain't gonna be able ta think straight!_

"Haruka-san," she called into the woman's office. "D'you mind if I take a breather for a bit? I swear I'll finish this, I just can't concentrate right now..."

The woman's black hair framed a look of intense worry as she stuck her head out of the doorway. "I don't want you getting drunk and blowing this off," she warned darkly.

"That's not it," Kitsune muttered in reply, and her lack of witty retorts changed Haruka's look from worry to curiosity then back to her usual dead-pan don't-care look.

"Go," Haruka said, waving her off.

* * *

Keitaro knew he was forgetting something. Despite that he was lying on the forest floor, he felt almost comfortable. His muscles were no longer quite so sore, and his head was resting on something soft. A cool damp cloth pressed against his forehead, for which he was eternally grateful. _Motoko. I was chasing after Motoko..._ Her face swam into view above his head.

"Fool." Despite the harsh word, her lips turned gently upwards. "Why did you follow me?"

"Waaah!" His eyes snapped wide open and he bounced up off her lap, and immediately regretted it. "...ooh." He absently picked up the cloth that had fallen off, pushing it to his throbbing head.

"No, you should not be up yet..." She reached out, gently feeling around on his head for bumps.

"_Keitaro, I love you."_ Her touch was warm, and she was leaning close to him, close enough that he could see the thin sheen of sweat on her face, and smell the scent of her exertion. "Ah, ahaha," he waved her off, forcing a smile. "No, it's alright, I'm invincible, remember?" His headache did seem to be receding ever so slowly.

"Are you really?" a far-away look entered her eyes. "Why are you invincible, Keitaro?" Such a simple question, based off a joke among the Hinata girls, but the seriousness with which she asked it made him uneasy.

"...more importantly, why did you run off?" he asked hurriedly, trying to dispel somber mood that had fallen. She looked away into the forest, her expression blank.

"There is nothing for me back there," she answered sadly. "Nothing but failure. Sister is right. I misused our school's arts for my own selfish desires. Desires for which I've punished you in the past!" Her expression grew frantic, and she stood. "And here I am, dumping all this on you! After all you've been through..." She backed away, turned and began running.

"-wait... Motoko!" He stumbled to his feet, and nearly sprawled onto the forest floor, his head spinning. Grasping onto a tree to regain his balance, he breathed deeply for a few seconds before following after her as best he could.

"Don't try to stop me, Keitaro," her voice drifted back to him. "The more you chase me, the faster I become a nun!"

* * *

Kitsune's tired feet carried her down the hall towards Naru's room. _Even though I told myself that, I don't know what I'm going to say when I find Naru._ She momentarily regretted keeping her word with Haruka and staying out of the sake, but she knew she needed a clear head for the rest of the day. _The Tea Shop is the first real honest-to-Kami stable job I've ever had. I can't afford to let anything ruin it._ She slid aside the door, to find Naru slumped over her desk, asleep in the pool of light cast by the small reading-lamp in front of her. She drifted over, resting a hand on her friend's shoulder. The girl stirred slowly, mumbling as she came awake.

"...Ki-Kitsune?" She settled her glasses over tired eyes, looking up to find her friend's sober face looking down on her.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

Naru's look of fear was more than eloquent. "I-I don't know what..."

Lack of sleep erased what tact she usually had. "I was just outside the Tea Shop when you spoke with Haruka," she said. "I heard everything that was said, and I want to know what happened."

"-about what?" Naru asked, obviously hoping against hope that her friend was either bluffing or speaking of something else.

"Don't 'about what' me, Naru," Kitsune retorted, her brow furrowing. "After all I did, hell, after all everyone did to get you two together, we _all_ deserve an explanation for this."

"I wish I had one," she whispered, looking away. "Does it look like I'm happy right now?"

"Naru," the Fox sighed, shaking her head and pulling up a chair. "I'm no sadist. I'm not here to make you suffer for what you did, I just want to know why you hurt the best man that ever walked into your life."

"That idiot's far from being anyone's 'best man.'" The words were out of her mouth before she could recall them, and her head snapped over sharply. Shock was written on her face, along with a stinging red mark now visible on her cheek. Kitsune dropped her shaking hand.

"I've had just about enough of that kind of talk."

"I'm sorry!" Naru whispered.

"...no, you're not! Atleast not for the right reasons," she said tiredly. "Never for the right reasons." _And never to the right person._ She turned and looked out the window at the red-tinged ball of flame rising into the sky. Soon it would be too bright to directly stare into. "I'm tired of defending him to you." She got no response, but she had not expected one. "I'm tired of trying to hook you two up. And most of all, I'm tired of constantly stepping aside and watching you break one heart after another while I keep getting older, and..." Naru had turned and buried her head into Kitsune's shoulder, grasping her like a drowning victim holds onto a life-preserver.

"Why am I so stupid, Kitsune?" she sobbed quietly. "I really hate myself this time. I'm always running away from my feelings... causing trouble for myself and everyone else..."

"I'm your friend, Naru," she said, holding the broken-hearted girl, "but if you don't tell the others, I will."

"I-I can't!" Naru pulled back, her eyes frantic. "They'll..."

She stood suddenly, and Naru fell to her knees. "Tell them," Kitsune repeated.

"I never asked for this," Naru mumbled. "I never asked," she choked once, but pushed through. "...that idiot to love me."

Kitsune turned to leave, sliding the door shut behind her. She really _did_ want to walk around a little before getting back to the Tea Shop.

"I didn't ask to fall in love with him."

Naru's quiet words echoed softly against the closed door.

* * *

Koalla Suu was stumped. She paused over a half-filled turtle-carrier, which contrary to its name did not carry turtles, but was instead something like a suitcase that kind of resembled a turtle. Of course it was infused with enough Molmolian technology to burn down half of Hinata, but that was standard for one of Koalla's suit-case-sized inventions. The vivacious young inventor had never come across a problem she couldn't solve with the appropriate application of either force, technology, or if necessary, sheer gumption plus a well-placed self-destruct. At least this had been true until Keitaro had come along, bringing with him issues of the heart that she and the other girls of Hinata simply were not able to handle in the normal ways. She more than any of the other girls was mystified by the enigma that was their Manager, simply because for once in her life, she was presented with complex problems that even a good glomp could not cure.

She had gotten lucky so far, she knew that. Keitaro was well nigh indestructible, and he didn't seem to mind her cautious attempts to weave her way into his heart. She hoped that over time she would be able to unravel the mysteries Keitaro constantly presented to the girls, each in their own way, but after several years she was not much further along than when she had started. Indeed, she herself had come very near to abandoning Hinata entirely, going so far as to activate her escape hot-air-balloon, but Keitaro had as usual said just the right thing near the end.

Despite the loss of one of her more expensive and necessary escape systems, she had not come out entirely empty-handed. Her hand drifted up to her lips as her mind flitted back to the one kiss she had shared with the boy while in her adult form. What were her feelings for him? Was he just another playmate, made special by the fact that he could take whatever she threw at him? Was he like Brother? More importantly, what were his feelings for her? It was obvious he was enamored with her adult form, and if only he were to ask, she would stay that way forever for him. If only he were to ask. Giving a very un-Suu-like sigh, she returned to her packing.

She knew in her Molmolian heart of hearts that if she did not solve the mystery of Keitaro, events would force her hand and she would have to leave Hinata for good. Yet even with this latest crisis, she had not expected to be presented with that awful choice so soon. Sarah bounded over from another section of Suu's cavernous room, a travel-bag slung over her shoulder. The ten-year-old still wore the same worried expression she had worn when she first came into Suu's room earlier that morning, and it was that expression on the normally vivacious girl that told her this might be it.

"You've got the detector?" Sarah's voice was as tense as her expression.

"Right here." Suu held it up with one hand, shutting the turtle-carrier with the other.

"You sure it's got enough range?"

Each word was like a dagger, but she tried to ignore the sharp sensations. "If Keitaro's still in Japan, we'll find him."

Sarah nodded, but her expression did not change. "I just wish we knew what was wrong."

"One week," Suu murmured, going over the facts one more time, even though she knew it was futile. "Over a single week, Keitaro becomes like he did during the exams. And Naru doesn't seem as cheerful as she usually does."

"...aah, she's probably like that because of the dork's attitude," Sarah waved dismissively. "She always gets like that whenever he's down in the dumps."

Suu nodded. This indeed was the mystery. But why was Keitaro so gloomy? She took one last look around. For now it didn't matter why he was gloomy, the fact that he was gone was more pressing. Immediately after Sarah had come and told her that Keitaro was not in his room, she had used her most powerful detector that was readily available to assure herself of the bad news. The boy was no longer within a mile radius of Hinata-Sou. It had not taken her ten minutes to build another similar detector, for it was obvious they would have to split up to perform an effective search pattern.

"Alright," Suu said, all-business as she and Sarah beat a path through the rain forest to the door of her room. "I'll take the north pattern, you take the south." She gave her partner the other Keitaro-Detector, and Sarah nodded, turned, and sprinted off down the hall. "Keep in contact!" Sarah paused, looking back in time to catch the small walky-talky Suu tossed to her.

She nodded, and for the first time that morning, her face cracked into a grim smile. "Don't worry, we'll find him." Suu took what comfort she could from that smile. "And when we do..." Whatever she was about to say was lost in the loud clatter of Shinobu running into her from around the corner, spilling her travel-bag's contents onto the floor.

"Sem-Sempai, he's gone!" Shinobu panted, dragging herself to her feet and looking frantically from Sarah to Suu.

"We know," Sarah answered. "We're going off to find him."

"I-I want to help! Motoko-Sama is missing too!" Shinobu exclaimed. "I went to call them to breakfast, and they-"

Suu's face paled, and the turtle-carrier slipped from her grasp, settling gently to the floor on its repulsors. The other two girls' words faded to the background as her worst fears played out around her. Keitaro was one thing, but without Motoko, she had no one. No one at all.

* * *

They had passed through the outskirts of a small village twenty minutes ago, but the faux-nun and her impromptu disciple had not stopped. Keitaro's head still pounded, but this time he knew it was from exertion, not the fall he had suffered the previous night. The two of them now sat on either side of a small fire, drinking tea.

"Why are you following me, Keitaro?" Her voice was full of weariness, not physical, but mental. Her heart longed for an answer even while her head screamed senselessly at how weak she had become. All because of her feelings. She forced down her rising anger. _Never again,_ she told it. _Never again will I call him that. I am the one who should be punished for perversion._ She watched as he struggled with whatever answer he was about to give. _Please, Keitaro. For once, see me as a woman, and not a kendoist, or as a teacher._

"You're my Teacher," he answered, his brows knitting together as he unknowingly squashed her hopes. "I'll follow you wherever you go."

"I'm not some Buddha!" his eyes widened at her outburst. "I don't have all the answers." She looked down. "I release you from being my student. Go back."

"I won't accept that," he said, keeping his voice even.

"I thought I was your Teacher! Do as I say!"

"You just released me," he answered with a smile. "So now I follow you of my own will."

"Why??" she snapped, trying to ignore his expression. "I have nothing more to offer," she said simply. Her heart already lay on the ground, trampled beneath his uncaring feet.

"That's not true," he answered, but the gentleness of his words were lost on her.

"What more do you want from me?" she fairly shouted, trying to hold back her tears.

"Please," he murmured. "Is there anything I can say or do to convince you to keep teaching me?"

Only the raw pain on his face kept her from disappearing in the night. _He still needs me, even if he is not willing to admit it,_ she thought grudgingly. Sad as it was, he was more broken than she, even with the loss of everything she held dear, now that her sister had basically disowned her.

"What about the Hinata?" She tried a different tack, and was rewarded by seeing his eyes go wistful.

Actually, there are still some things I didn't have time to take care of before I left," he admitted. "Should I just disappear and abandon my responsibilities? What would you think of me then?"

"Then you're not ready." She folded her arms. "Choose, Keitaro. Either stay with me, or go back to Hinata." The late morning sun played off his features, and she watched him contemplate the difficult choice before him. _It's for the best, _she told herself._ This is how it is traditionally done anyway. He must show he is willing to give up something of great value to him. There will be nothing else he can do to convince me to stay here._

He stood, walked over to where she sat, and knelt, taking her hand in his. _Not even this, Keitaro,_ she thought to herself. _Despite my feelings for you, you won't be able to convince me with any fleshly-_ He reached into his pocket, withdrew a ring, and placed it in her hands.

"This represents almost all the savings I have left in this world," he said, catching her eyes with his. "But that's just its material value. It used to represent a deep bond of love between two people... at least I thought so. Maybe you could think of it for now as representing me, my wish to stay with you, and my hope that we might become more than just sensei and student. I'm not giving you this because I want you to be a replacement for Naru. Please give me time to prove to you that you are much more to me than that. If I can't do that, then I deserve your rejection."

Her breathing had nearly stopped during his impromptu speech. _He felt this way all the time,_ she realized. _Perhaps he simply thought such words would drive me away. I misunderstood yet again..._ She let her eyes fall.

"Plus I realized I never really answered you. What you said back at Hinata Sou," he explained hurriedly, mistaking her crestfallen expression for a possible no. "Consider this my answer." his soft smile nearly ended her composure. "I love you, Motoko. Please wait for me." Standing and lifting his back-pack to his shoulders, he turned and jogged away.

She watched him go. He neither hesitated nor looked back. She let loose a long sigh, fingering the ring. Somehow, he had turned the dilemma back on her._ How am I to teach him, if he can do this to me?_ With a jolt of fear, she realized she was becoming enthralled with the boy._ Man,_ she corrected herself. _No. This isn't right._ She hastily packed her things. _I can't stay, I just can't. He'll realize I've made the right choice. Hinata needs him._ She looked back towards the direction he had taken, tears in her eyes. _I'm sorry, Keitaro._

* * *

Her days at the Hinata were over, Naru had finally come to grips with that. She sat at her desk, her elbows resting on the hard wood surface, her chin in her hands as she gazed vacantly out over the grounds of the all-girls-dorm. _Maybe for the last time._ The others would surely force her to leave after hearing her story. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. She had done enough of that the past week to last her a lifetime. _So many memories. The parties. Everyone studying to go to Tokyo-U. Even back when Keitaro first came here, things were fun. He brought a happiness to everyone that we didn't recognize fully at the time._ Her mind traveled back to when she had first arrived. Down in that very plaza below.

_Narusegawa, welcome to Hinata-Sou!_ Kitsune had been there, still much the same. _From now on you will pass the best days of your life here! Ha ha..._ She had been tipsy even then. _Don't be so nervous, maybe you'll run into some tough situations, but remember, the future will definitely be joyful and dazzling._

_Really?_ She could see her phantom self looking up shyly at the younger Kitsune.

_Count on it!_

A stubborn tear tracked down her cheek. _I guess the dream ends here,_ she sighed, turning to rise from the chair and go down to breakfast. Pain exploded against her face, and she found herself abruptly on the ground. Blinking rapidly, she looked up through the haze of her fading consciousness. Kanako stood above her, fists glowing with an other-worldly energy. _She found out. Somehow, she found out. _It was her last thought before passing out.

She awoke some time later to a blinding headache, and pain along her back. She was tied up, and being dragged along the ground. She looked around wildly, but there was no one nearby. _There wouldn't be, _a helpful corner of her mind said. _It's the second day of the weekend. Hardly anyone is out at this time._ It didn't matter in any case, her mouth was gagged. _Where...? _She looked around as she faded out again. Tokyo-University, she realized. Kanako was taking her to Tokyo-University.

Back in her empty room, her cell phone was ringing.

* * *

Haruka nearly bit the tip off her ever-present cigarette. "What??" She gave a long sigh, glancing around at the rapidly-filling Tea Shop. "Sure, I'll see what I can do. Bye." She hung up the phone, taking the cancer-stick from her mouth and looking idly around at the place where she would most likely spend the rest of her years. _With my luck, in forty years or so I'll still have no friends, and when I die there won't even be anyone to scrape me off the floor and bury me out back._ Her roving eyes finally found the short-haired slightly-intoxicated hired help she was looking for.

"Kitsune!" The mop of ash-gray hair turned, showing eyes still full of life, which satisfied Haruka that the girl was probably telling the truth about trying to cut back. "I gotta go take care of something at Tokyo-U for Naru, can you handle the morning rush?" She did not miss the flash of emotion across Kitsune's face at hearing that name, and her woman's intuition began to murmur, but she had no time to work out whatever it was scratching at the back of her mind.

"Sure thing, Haruka!" Kitsune called back.

"I hate to do this," Haruka said as she walked towards the door. "I'll see if I can scare up Mutsumi to help you-"

"Ara!"

As luck would have it, the poor woman was just entering the Tea Shop, and the two of them collided, sending the Okinawan to the floor in a dead faint.

"Gah!" Haruka knelt, feeling for a pulse, even though she knew she wouldn't find one, at least not for another three point five minutes.

"I'll take care of her, y'all go on." Kitsune knelt, cradling the temporarily-dead woman's head in her lap.

"O-kay..." Haruka got up unsteadily and made her way out the door. _I swear I'll never get used to that._

* * *

Keitaro had to fight off nostalgia as he jogged up the chipped and cracked stone steps leading up to Hinata-Sou. He had been up and down these same steps countless times over the past years, going to and from cram school, celebrating the changes of season with Hinata's residents, and countless other large and small activities that made him want to do nothing more than sit down and reminisce for the rest of the day. The tight schedule he had made for himself would not permit this, however, for he had no idea how long Motoko would wait. Or even if she would wait. He had stopped in at the small village he had passed early that morning, and found out just how far he and Motoko had run through the night. The short train ride back to the station near Hinata had given him more than enough time to consider the ramifications of what he was doing. Kanako had already shown herself to be more than qualified to run Hinata, as he had found upon his return from America. It only remained to tie up a few loose ends and convince the other residents that this was for the best.

He came through the front door expecting Suu to jump him, and was somewhat surprised to find the atrium and kitchen empty. It was late enough in the morning that Shinobu at least should have already been up preparing breakfast.

"Hello?" he called expectantly. "I'm back, is anyone here?"

He jogged up the stairs towards Kanako's room, an uneasy feeling creeping its way along his spine. Sliding the door aside slowly, he saw that the room was, as usual, picture perfect. The futon was made up, all clothes were either hung in the closet or shut up in a closed hamper, and everything was in its place. _Neat freak,_ he thought snidely, remembering how even as a small child her room had been kept in this kind of order. For someone as lackadaisical as him, it had been rather hellish, since his parents were forever asking him "why don't you keep your room as clean as Kana-chan?"

Even Kuro was missing, which meant Kanako was not here. The cat followed her wherever she went. He stepped over to her bed, dropping the packet containing the deed for Hinata-Sou. He had officially signed it over on his way through town. Leaving her room without a backwards glance, he jogged down the hall to Sarah's room, which was also empty.

_Where is everyone?_

Something didn't feel right, but he did not have time to solve mysteries. Sarah was his responsibility, and he had prepared for her absence on the outside chance she was away somewhere, but this was not the way he had wanted to break the news. He knew how absentminded Seta was, but the man had looked more serious than normal when he had entrusted the girl to his 'part-timer.' _I refuse to betray his trust, but what now?_ He could not afford to wait around, but what else was there to do? _I'll cross that bridge when I come to it,_ he thought, sprinting back down the hall to the stairs. _Maybe Haruka will know where everyone is._

A rumble shook Hinata on its foundation, sending whatever thoughts he had into chaos. He exited the main building at a run, looking around wildly. A smoke trail led up into the sky. Squinting against the morning sun, he could barely make out a dark object on the end of a pillar of flame.

_Suu._ It could be no one else. His feet rooted to the ground by the cold fear in his gut, he could only hope she had fixed the reactor overload problem in the fourth incarnation of Mecha-Tama, which he assumed was what was at the end of the trail of flame.

* * *

"_I-I can't _do_ this!" Sarah had never expected to hear those words from the young inventor who had become her best friend. Suu's face was frantic, pieces of the second Keitaro Detector strewn around her as if she had thrown the device against the wall in a fury. "I never expected to have to track Motoko-Sama! I don't know her defining characteristics, her spatial measurements-"_

"_She's got black hair," Sarah replied sardonically. "And if you're looking for cup size, Keitaro has probably seen them more than any-"_

"_NO!!" the Molmolian's eyes were fierce for just a moment, the instant rage burning off quicker than an alcohol fire. Sarah fell silent, never having seen even a hint of anger from the normally irrepressible inventor. "Something like DNA, but not quite... it's like-" her eyes were pools of sorrow, as she tried to explain to her technically-challenged friend."_

"_-w-we can go get her hairbrush or-or something if it'll help," Shinobu spoke up timidly, remembering from her school textbook's overview on DNA. The raven-haired cook had almost collapsed when Suu had confirmed that her Sempai was indeed missing, and had pushed herself onto the pair of erstwhile rescuers, begging them to allow her to help find the missing Manager and kendoist. A shadow seemed to pass over Suu's face, and she pushed the two of them towards the door of her room._

"_Go," she said. "Do that. Bring me anything that might have parts of Motoko on it. Hurry!"_

Sarah pushed her way through the wreckage of Suu's room, cursing to herself as best she could with her ten-year-old vocabulary. She should have seen the look on Suu's face and recognized that the girl had given up, and had said the words just to get them out of her room. She stumbled, nearly sprawling onto the floor as she blindly threw broken shards of wood out of her way until she got to the gaping hole in the wall near the upper corner of the room. Thick smoke swirled around the large room making her eyes water, but she knew this had been an escape system, as opposed to an accidental self destruct. _Stupid!_ She gritted her teeth, straining to see the dark speck as it rose into the sky. Shinobu stumbled to her knees beside Sarah, a handkerchief pushed against her nose.

"She's-" a wracking cough interrupted her question as she dropped the piece of cloth, her face distraught as she looked up into the sky. "She's gone, isn't she?"

With a wordless grunt of frustration Sarah left the forlorn cook sitting on the floor. It took her several minutes of searching, but she found the object poking out from underneath a pile of rubble. Pulling it out and wiping the dust from its circular screen, she held her breath and touched the activation stud.

Nothing. Not even a flash of sparks indicated that there was any life left in what was likely the last Keitaro Detector in existence in Hinata-Sou. The small device slipped from her hands to land with a thud on the wooden floor. Whatever hope she had of finding her empty-headed guardian had died when Suu had abandoned them.

* * *

The empty buildings of Tokyo-University loomed to either side, and the thoroughfares and plazas were completely devoid of activity. Haruka walked quickly down the sidewalk towards the admissions office, which was probably the only part of Tokyo-U that was open at the moment. The woman who had called had explained in clipped tones that if Naru Narusegawa did not register within the next half-day, she would "...have classes automatically assigned to her, and I'm sorry but some of the times may not be to her liking." Apparently the young Todai-sei was not answering her phone for the moment. Deciding she needed the fresh air, she set off for the University herself. She did not know Naru's schedule preferences, but surely her own choices for class times would at least be better than random assignment by computer. Her busy thoughts clattered to a halt as something caught her eye in the distance.

_Naru._

The girl had been crucified in the middle of the main plaza. _Oh please no!_ Her small form appeared to be unmoving._ -no-no-no...!_ Haruka's legs almost gave out, but she forced herself into a run. Two heart-wrenching minutes later, she found to her immense relief that Naru's limbs had merely been tied, not nailed, to the largest tree that dominated the middle of the circular park. Standing on tip-toe, she struggled with the ropes binding the girl's limbs to the branches of the tree. She was sunburned and had already passed out either from heat exhaustion or whatever else had been done to her.

"Kami, who could have done this..." she murmured, angry tears at the edges of her eyes. _I should have known she would be in danger,_ she thought, berating herself mercilessly. She knew that once the terrible secret was out, hell would descend upon the quiet all-girls-dorm, but she had never imagined that any of the Hinata residents would go this far.

Naru stirred listlessly as Haruka managed to free one arm. "Ka... Kan-" Her eyes snapped open and she struggled briefly, the other hand coming loose. She pulled away from the older woman, stumbling to the ground, fright written all over her face. "-d-don't...!" she moaned, barely able to move her arms as she attempted to push herself away from her rescuer. Haruka knelt, pulling the terrified girl to her shoulder and holding her tightly.

"Sssh, it's okay, it's alright!" Naru struggled desperately, obviously still in the throes of her last memory, but her efforts weakened as Haruka rocked back and forth. "...you're safe, you're safe now." She huddled in a ball as Haruka held her, tensed for blows that did not come, then she finally relaxed against the older woman's shoulder, weeping quietly. "Everything's going to be alright," Haruka murmured again, to herself as much as to the petrified young woman in her arms. As if to mock her, fate dropped an airplane nearly on top of them.

It was not so much a crash as a barely controlled landing. The tall wild-eyed pilot stumbled over to where Haruka sat, a thin trail of blood lining his face. "Keitaro! I need you to- Haruka??"

Haruka looked up, her hand on the back of Naru's head, her expression having returned to its usual stoic flat line. "Seta."

"I thought I saw Keitaro here, but you'll have to do!" he said, beaming at her and scratching the back of his head absentmindedly. Being Seta, he had no idea why her expression clouded over with hurt and anger.

"I've got to get Naru back to Hinata," she said, disdain in her voice.

"But... but Haruka!" She ignored the edge of panic in his voice. "You don't understand, people are chasing me, and-"

"Don't... don't take me back there!" Naru's terrified whisper had more stopping power than if Seta had written an entire thesis on why she should have stayed. She turned slowly as exotic-looking airships loomed over the main bell-tower of Tokyo-University. Seta had the good graces not to comment, instead opting to smile appreciatively.

"I'm doing this for her sake, not yours!" she insisted, though a part of her really did look forward to being included in whatever bind Seta had gotten himself. _His first choice was my nephew,_ she reminded that stubborn part. Sighing heavily, she followed the man to his plane, which had somehow survived the crash landing.

* * *

_Stupid._ Sarah trudged back towards the stairs leading up to her room. _Why is it every time I get close to someone they leave me?_ Her life had been one long unending string of disappointments starting with the death of her mother. Seta was never around, Keitaro was too busy chasing Naru to spend any time with her, and now her best friend had given up and left her as well. _Given up._ It seemed unthinkable, but she should have seen the signs earlier. Suu was human and had a breaking point just like everyone else.

Not even bothering to close the door, she flopped down on her bed, dust motes swirling in the afternoon sun, tracing odd patterns through the air. The only one left was Shinobu, and who knew how long her only remaining friend would last? Her and Kanako. Kanako who had at one point tied her up and impersonated her. The young woman had since mellowed out, but Sarah didn't trust the scheming goth as far as she could throw her. Her stomach grumbled, but she knew Shinobu had been interrupted before she could finish breakfast, and if the girl was still downstairs, it was unlikely she was making any food now. Her eyelids drooped, and she never even noticed the envelope that finally succumbed to gravity, slipping from the edge of the bed to land quietly on the floor.

The sun had worked its way across the sky and was shining directly onto her face through her eyelids when she finally groaned, shielding herself with an arm as she rolled over onto the floor with a thump.

"-ouch..." Pulling herself to a sitting position, she finally noticed the envelope. Picking it up, her fingers shook a little as she pulled the small sheet of paper out and unfolded it. Inside was a ticket, which fell into her hands. The paper had neatly-written Kanji in Keitaro's handwriting.

"Sarah, sorry, something came up, but I hope you don't think I forgot about you. Enclosed is a ticket to a town where, if everything goes right, I will hopefully be waiting for you. I've tried to give you as much lead time as possible, but in case you don't make it, I'll be-" she looked at her watch, then frantically at the ticket. _Darn!_ She ran to her closet, pulling her travel-bag which had already been packed for the search for Keitaro. _Darn, darn, darn..._ She practically flew from the room. Halfway down the stairs she skidded to a halt, hearing voices.

"I think she's in her room." Shinobu.

"Good," Kanako's cold answer sent shivers down her spine. "We can use all the help we can if we are to convert this place back to Hinata Inn."

Sarah crept back upstairs, her mind racing to the closest secret passage that might allow her to escape.

_I don't have time for this!_

* * *

Shinobu ascended the stairs behind Kanako, her mouth a line of seriousness that was out of place on her youthful face. _Sempai will come back. I know he will. But until he does, we have to keep Hinata profitable at any cost._ With Naru out of the picture, Shinobu Maehara would finally be able to say the things she had always held in her heart, and perhaps, just perhaps, he would reciprocate.


End file.
